Catherine remained in her room for the day and night. She complained of a headache and asked to be excused from any activities. Jeffrey didn’t believe for one minute that the headache was real, but he could do nothing about it. She took her meals in her room and avoided any contact with the family.
He had to respect her wishes and kept Michael away from her as well, but it was all Jeffrey could do to restrain him from running up to her room. Jeffrey too had spent a sleepless night and vowed to himself that at the next opportunity, he wouldn’t let Catherine escape till he'd told her everything.
Catherine rested on the bed most of the day, her thoughts on Michael and Jeffrey. They belonged to one world, and she-- she belonged-- she didn't know to which world she belonged anymore, and the loss of her former serene assurance filled her with despair. A veil of darkness descended upon her spirit, and she awakened the following morning more tormented and distraught then ever. She went downstairs, but the thought of food was repulsive to her.
Jeffrey suffered another restless night and was trying to make some plans with Michael for the day when he saw her pale face appear in the hallway. Her look of anguish smote him. Michael flew over to her and hugged her about the waist.
She bent over to clasp him tightly. She’d decided to leave Norwood. This would be her last day. She would have to tell Michael and his father. She lifted Michael from the floor and felt eager arms encircle her neck. She buried her face in the golden hair and stifled her sobs.
Jeffrey walked over to them. There was an intensity about the way she clung to his son. He knew she was going to leave.
"Sister," Michael lifted his head. “Today Daddy and I have something planned. We're going to go on a picnic. Please will you come? Don't be sick again." Catherine couldn't speak. "Sister, please?"
"All right, Michael, since it means so much to you." He hugged her again and said enthusiastically, "Meet us in front of the house at noon."
"Where are we going?" she asked in a daze.
"That's a surprise," Michael replied. She smiled sadly and put him down. Jeffrey was standing near her, but she could not acknowledge his presence. She didn't dare and turned to go back to her room until the appointed hour.
One last picnic, then she would be out of their lives forever. Jeffrey watched her go up the stairs. She hadn't even said good morning to him. He thought he was going to lose his mind.
Michael and his father were waiting in the courtyard when Catherine stepped out the front door two hours later. The boy carried a blanket and his father held the hamper of food. For the first time in two days she looked at Jeffrey directly.
She wanted to remember him and his son, standing there with the sunshine on their smiling faces like fair gods, eager and happy. She planned to tell them during the picnic she was leaving. The time had come to make this sacrifice. But in her weak moments, it did not seem small. They had become part of her, Michael and his father.
They were inseparable in her mind now. These two men had wound their way into her heart. They’d taught her so much about life, about love. In the end she would be the stronger for it, even if at this moment she shrank from the bitter cup, such a bitter cup. Nevertheless, Thy will be done.
She answered Jeffrey's gaze with a brilliant smile which seemed to transfigure her. It was a farewell smile. He didn't want her to look at him that way. It spoke of goodbye, of eternal parting. He could never say goodbye to her.
The path to the picnic spot wound behind the house through the trees. The three of them followed it for half an hour, singing rounds most of the way. It was another experience Catherine would treasure. Soon it led to a small clearing and a brook. No wider than Jeffrey's stride, it rippled through the tall grass. Jeffrey spread the blanket over the cushiony tufts and put the basket down.
"Daddy, shall we tell Sister?" Michael rolled his eyes mysteriously.
"But I thought it was just between us men," Jeffrey teased.
"But Sister is a woman, not a dumb girl. That's different."
Jeffrey didn't dare look at Catherine. The boy's comment was very astute. She most decidedly was a woman. Even in her habit, the superb mold of her body was quite apparent. "You're right, Michael," he muttered, almost forgetting that he was not alone. "Sister Catherine is definitely not a dumb girl."
"Well, Michael, aren't you going to tell me?"
Michael flashed a conspiratorial glance at his father. "This is our special place, our hideout. No one knows this about it except you. We've never brought anyone else here before."
"Well I'm deeply honored, sir, and I promise I won't tell anyone, not even the Holy Mother."
Jeffrey flinched visibly at the mention of the Holy woman's name. Catherine noticed immediately the shadow cross over his face.
"Really?" Michael's eyes were wide open. "I thought you told her everything."
She sucked in her breath. "This is one thing I’ll keep a secret forever."
"I believe you," he stated. Catherine couldn’t repress a smile because he’d said it so seriously. Michael's father laughed. The boy was utterly adorable.
For a moment, the darkness lifted and she shared the bond which united them. She realized how natural it had all become, the three of them together like a family.
"Hey—“ Michael cried in delight as a small furry animal scurried through the clearing. "A rabbit! He darted after it, crouching low, reaching for it with his arms. It ran underneath a sprawling bush and he burrowed his way through the leaves in hot pursuit.
Jeffrey had seated himself beneath a large tree, his back up against the trunk. He was chewing on a blade of grass, watching Catherine. She could feel his eyes. Now was the time to broach the subject of her leaving, but it would be easier if she said it in front of both of them. She walked about the clearing, enjoying the sweet smell of damp earth and foliage, but inwardly she was trembling. "Should Michael be out there alone?"
"These woods have been his domain since he was born. Don't worry about him. Sit down and relax. Today none of us should have a care in the world."
Catherine obeyed and seated herself on one end of the blanket, lifting her face to the gentle breeze. If she did not shut out the world, she would be looking at Jeffrey's handsome profile. How she loved him! She could no longer deny it. She was supposed to be in the world, not of it.
Where was Michael right now to help the conversation? She’d never been so aware of his father's presence. It was overpowering. She didn't know how to begin what needed to be said.
Michael was calling after the rabbit, shouting for it to stop, and his voice was growing fainter. Back at the convent she’d be at meditation in the chapel. That’s where she needed to be this minute, not out in the woods with a man and his son. But Michael's father wasn’t just any man.
She needed to remove herself from him. “I feel like walking. Perhaps I can catch up with Michael." She couldn't talk to him alone. She didn't have the courage.
“I’ll come with you. These woods are ripe to be explored.” He smiled at her and had to endure the pain of her silence. He followed her as she set out in the direction of Michael's cries. She wouldn't get away from him this time. Presently, after having to pull at her cumbersome skirts to clear the underbrush, she came upon the boy, who was totally dissolved in tears.
"Michael," she ran to him. "What is it, darling?"
"Look!" He sobbed, showing her a dead bird he'd discovered beneath a fern. One wing was distended. Catherine knelt down and rubbed its feathers gently with the back of her fingers. "Oh ... its neck and wing are broken."
"Daddy, can't you do something?" the boy implored. Jeffrey was down on one knee, inspecting it carefully. "I'm afraid not."
Michael shuddered. "Why does everything have to die?" he moaned, tears pouring down his cheeks. Catherine wanted to rush to him and hold him, but it was no longer her place. She let Jeffrey reach out. "Michael," he pulled the boy close.
"Son," he pressed the wet face to his breast.
"Every
thing has a season," she began. "We’re born, we live, and we die. It happens to all God's creatures." Michael kept wiping his eyes. “It's sad I know, very hard to understand sometimes, but that’s why it’s important we learn to love life for the time we have it." Her voice caught. "We must each find our place and fulfill ourselves the way God intended.”
Jeffrey hoped she was listening to what she was saying. Michael kept crying. She’d lost him.
"If anything happened to you or daddy, I'd die." There was silence. Jeffrey felt as if someone had just struck him. No one moved. The little boy wriggled out of his father's arms and returned to stare at the dead bird. Then he craned his neck and looked at both of them with soberness. "My mummy died. Why can't you be my new mummy, Sister?"
For a moment she was speechless and Jeffrey bowed his head, fighting the heaviness in his heart. "Because I'm already married," came the low reply. She was actually saying the words and he couldn't bear it.
"Where's your daddy?"
Catherine made a noise between a laugh and a sob. "Nuns are married to Christ, Michael."
"But I've never seen him."
“No.” Catherine choked on her own words and sank to her knees. Jeffrey wanted to stop his son, now. He didn't want her to remind him again, who he was, what she was.
"Do you love Him?" the boy asked earnestly.
"Very, very much," her voice broke.
"More than my daddy?"
There was an interminable silence. She groped, she felt lightheaded, but she couldn’t honestly answer Michael.
He waited for her to say the words he knew would answer the question, but there was no explanation. The moment of truth had arrived. He waited, still no answer.
"Daddy loves you, Sister. I know he does."
Jeffrey stood up. "Michael, why don't you run back to the clearing and find something good to eat in the basket." His hands were shaking as he urged the boy on. "I'll be there in a while. I want to talk to Sister Catherine alone. Be a good
little chap."
Michael went off, obedient to his father's wishes and Jeffrey turned around. Her face was buried in her hands. She wouldn’t look at him.
“Catherine,” he began.
Her words were muffled as she said, "I've made arrangements to return to Castle Combe in the morning. I was going to tell you and Michael while we ate our picnic."
"I'm in love with you, Catherine."
"No," she cried out. "Please don't say anything!"
"Are you afraid to hear the truth?"
"You don't know what you're saying. Everything is out of perspective right now. When I leave ..."
"Why couldn't you answer Michael just now?"
"I don't know what you mean!"
"He asked if you loved Christ more than you loved me, and you didn't say anything.”
Her shoulders shook. "I must go back to the house. I'm sorry." She started on the path.
"What are you afraid of?" he followed her.
She stopped. “When I was nineteen," she began, "I pledged my life to God. I made a vow. I chose that vocation of my own free will, entering the marriage with joy and happiness. In doing so, I renounced worldly pleasures. That was the sacrifice I offered to Him. It wasn’t difficult to give up the world. I rejoiced in the offering. I wanted to serve him."
“I believe you, Catherine, but do your vows and covenants prevent you from telling me the truth now? I thought one of the tenets of your faith was honesty."
"It is," she answered in a muffled cry.
"Would you tell me the truth if I asked you a question?" She didn’t answer. "Do you love me?" She didn't move. There was no sound uttered. "Catherine-- look at me!"
"I mustn't."
"Why? Because it would offend God?"
"Yes!" she cried out.
"Then you do love me," he cried aloud.
"I-I don't know," she struggled. "Yes. I love you. I love you,”
she whispered.
"Is love between a woman and man offensive to God?" His voice was softly compelling.
"No ... how could it be?"
"Will you marry me, Catherine?"
She finally looked at him. Sheer astonishment crossed her face. She opened her mouth, but the words wouldn’t come. As she shook her head, her astonishment changed to fear. He thought she was going to lose consciousness and drew closer.
"You don't think I'm going to let you walk out of my life now, do you? Not after what you've just confessed to me. God is our witness."
Her voice was almost inaudible. "You don't know what you're asking. I've already made my vows to God. When I leave Norwood, I’ll do penance while there’s still time."
"Penance? For what?" he cried out angrily. "For restoring a child to life, for filling my life with hope and love? No, Catherine! That would be a mockery to God as well. He knows what’s in your heart and mine." He swiftly covered the distance between them and drew her into his arms before she knew what was happening.
"No, Jeffrey, we mustn't," she cried, and struggled to escape from his grasp. But he held her almost cruelly tight until she ceased to offer resistance. Then he bent down and found her trembling mouth. She gasped and her lips parted as his mouth covered hers.
They were caught up in a whirling rapture which sent a voluptuous warmth through her body. She had no sense of time or place. When he felt her supple body go limp from emotion, his arms tightened to support her. "I love you," he whispered, kissing her till neither of them could draw breath.
"Jeffrey," she cried, tearing her lips from his, reeling from the pasion he brought to life in her.
"Catherine, darling," he murmured, "don't pull away from me.” He found her lips once more, unable to curb the desire she aroused in him. He was shaken by the greatest passion he’d ever known. He wanted her beyond caution. Finally she pulled back and buried her head in his neck, sobbing uncontrollably.
Jeffrey crushed her to him and they clung together for a long time. "How can Michael and I live without you?" he murmured against her hot cheek. "You’re our very heart. How can you walk out of our lives after what we've had together? It isn't possible, my darling.”
He rocked her gently. "Don't you see how desperately I want to make love to you, give you children of our own, grow old with you? I want you, Catherine," he groaned and would have kissed her again, but she broke away from his embrace, hiding her face in her hands once more. Shame and guilt consumed her.
She could hear the Holy Mother's words. ‘Treat this mission with reverence and respect and you can never doubt that God approves.’ Those words scorched her now. Her body throbbed from Jeffrey's touch, his words. She looked up at him through tears and saw the love in his eyes.
He was torn apart to see her in such torment, but he suffered as deeply as she did. He didn't want to add to her suffering, but he couldn’t help himself.
"Catherine, Michael needs a mother. No one knows that better than you. Who else on this blessed earth will he ever care about besides you? You've spoiled us for anyone else."
"Don't," she whispered. "Don't say any more," but she could see he wasn't listening.
"God spared the boy's life twice through you. Doesn't that tell you anything?"
"Yes.” She wiped her eyes and stood up. "That I was there for him by God's will, because I’d entered the sisterhood."
"But you haven't carried it to the next logical step," he broke in, his eyes blazing. "Has it occurred to you that God might have guided you to Michael, and him to you, because He knew there was another mission for you which included the union of the three of us? Can you honestly tell me you’re certain that God didn't intend you to be my wife and Michael's mother by placing you at the convent?"
The Holy Mother's words came vividly to mind. The day Catherine left for Norwood she’d said, “God has sent you this test. Remember, we don't always see each step along the rocky way, but God sees the end from the beginning and there is work for you to do. You have to find out what that work is. Right now
your mission is one of an administering angel to a sick child."
Catherine stood there paralyzed, her mind in a quandary. What could she say to Jeffrey? Was it God's will she turn her back on the sisterhood to become the bride of this man? She honestly didn't know. Perhaps in time the answer would manifest itself.
"Jeffrey, I love you very, very much, but I can't give you an answer now. I must go back to the convent. This has shaken me."
He could see her white face, but her words crushed him. He'd only just held her in his arms. She was his whole life To think of her leaving. He shook his head. "I need you, Catherine. Leave the convent. Our love is holy, too."
She clasped her hands. "Jeffrey, you can't possibly know the ramifications of such a decision."
"What would you have to go through to leave the sisterhood?" The question jolted her to the quick. She paled even more. He realized that the very idea was unthinkable to her.
"I would have to lay my case before the Holy Mother," she answered in a stupor. "Then I would have to go before the Bishop. He would present it to the Cardinal who in turn would take it to the Mother General. Then I would have to ask for a special dispensation from Pius the XII."
It was much more complicated than he’d suspected since he knew nothing about such procedures.
"Would it be unbearable, darling?" he asked softly. She looked into his eyes and took a long time before answering.
"Not if I were certain it was the right thing to do. But you have to understand something, Jeffrey. If I were to leave the order before I’d received confirmation that it was God's will, I wouldn’t make you a good wife, not ever," she explained.
Jeffrey knew she was right.
"But if I should discover after I return to the convent that my place is at your side, and then stayed on in the sisterhood out of a sense of loyalty and guilt, I would offend God. That would be sacrilege."
He hung his head. Catherine was speaking truth. He had to accept it. That was what made her the woman she was, her integrity. She hadn’t refused him. She’d confessed her love for him, but he knew what a devout person she was. How could he compete with the Almighty? A sadness such as he had never known crept over him.
Lovers in Enemy Territory Page 12
